Romance and Pizza on the Side
by BlinkByou
Summary: They laugh at me when I say that his pizza making skills are the most romantic thing about him. But they'll never see what I see. SorKai, oneshot.


A/N: I really don't know why I wrote this, but I like it. I don't really write happy one-shots, so I kind of scared myself when I found myself typing aimlessly away at this thing. I hope you guys like it :)

--

A smile sheepishly as I listen to the giggles and playful jibes of my girlfriends. We're gathered at my friend Selphie's house for one of our annual 'girls only' sleepovers. We are not children anymore, and very few of us still carry the word 'teen' at the end of our ages. I could say I'm lucky to still be considered a teenager, and I believe that I am, however my girlfriends like to pretend that I'm missing something because of my age. I'm not.

"Pizza, Kairi?" My friend Lydia says through her giggles. I merely nod with a dreamy smile on my face.

Lydia had proposed, as usual, that we talk about boys tonight. Though this is always the topic of conversation at our little get-togethers, it is very rare that we all had boyfriends at the time to discuss. Luckily, since tonight was one of those rare nights, nobody would feel left out when we started arguing over who had the best guy.

Ashley, my blond haired ditsy friend, had immediately brought up the topic all of the girls loved to discuss. "Let's compare and see who's boyfriend has done the most romantic thing," She had yelled out excitedly. Immediately all of my friends started blabbing about the things their boyfriends had bought them and the fancy dinners and roller coaster park dates they'd been taken to. They talked of roses and shoes, necklaces and kisses under mistletoe, and even midnight rides and mini vacations. I just smiled however, and waited for the girls to stop arguing over what act was more romantic. I didn't need to argue.

"Kairi, you haven't said anything!" Selphie had whined when she noticed my small smile.

"Yeah Kairi, what's the most romantic thing Sora has ever done for you?" Ashley said while painting one of her dainty fingernails and aqua blue.

"He makes me pizza." I say without a second thought. I look at the faces of the five girls in front of me as they start to giggle and whisper among themselves. I don't mind though, I know they'd never understand.

You see, I hate pizza. I've always hated the taste of dry spaghetti sauce on bread that wasn't always baked thoroughly. I don't like the way it smells, the way it looks, or the way people scarf it down like it's the best food on earth. I dislike walking past pizza parlors and I turn off commercials that advertise the most times greasy pies. The food simply didn't appeal to me. That is, if Sora didn't make it.

My girlfriends never have understood why I love Sora. They thought I was crazy back on my first day of junior high when I walked up and introduced myself to the geeky, skinny little boy. He was going through puberty and it definitely showed. His hands and feet were too big for his body, he was lanky, and his voice cracked when he laughed. He was clumsy and was always dropping things, he spaced out during class and he drew crappy little drawings of moons and stars. He was too skinny to play football, too short to play basketball, and couldn't catch a baseball to save his life.

But Sora could cook.

Now my mom used to say a woman could win a mans heart with her cooking, but I'd like to think of that as a two way street. The first time I tasted Sora's cooking was at Welcome Back To School Day. It was a picnic like event where all the students and their parents would gather to have a lunch. Though we tried to appear cool and act like we were too old for such things, all of us students couldn't help but feel a slight tingle of excitement.

I can still remember the first time I laid eyes on that lanky boy. He was wearing a toothy grin and pushing up the rim of his thick-rimmed glasses as a couple of adults congratulated him on his amazing cooking skills. I was a curious kid by trade, so I had to figure out what this boy had made that was so good. It wasn't every day that you found a kid who cooked, and a boy no less.

I told my girlfriends that I was going over there to say hi to the smiling boy and left before they could say a word. I approached him with confidence I didn't have and smiled. Now most boys my age would have been weirded out at my approach and probably would've made fun of me or walked away; but not this boy. He smiled back and then pushed his glasses back up on his nose.

And boy did I fall hard for him right then and there.

We started chatting, me doing most of the talking while he smiled and answered like the polite gentleman he's was raised to be. I told him I heard he cooked. He showed me what he had made. I made a face. And he merely smiled.

"Try it, I promise it's good." He had said, his voice cracking in the awkward, puberty strained kind of way.

And I tell you, I didn't want to eat it. I had made up my mind from the day I first laid eyes on the round red 'pies' that I'd never like them. But I liked Sora too much to hurt his feelings. So I ate a piece. And well, I ate another piece and took a third one home.

From that day on me and Sora were attached at the hip. On Valentine's day I'd make him cupcakes and he's make me pizza. On Christmas I'd bake him cookies and he'd make me a gingerbread house that never tasted like rotten cardboard. On Easter we'd dye eggs and then throw them away before our Mom's told us to eat them. And on my birthday Sora would bake me a cake so beautiful it made me think I was a princess.

None of our little acts of friendship meant anything until the first day of high school. Our relationship became awkward and I didn't see Sora much. Over the years I heard he had won a cooking contest which guaranteed him a scholarship to a prestigious culinary school. I'd heard he was dating Miley Lance, the short artistic drama nerd who loved to read Shakespeare out-loud in the library. I'd heard he saved an elderly woman's life by pushing her out of an oncoming car, and I'd heard he'd failed his Civics class for the second time around.

On the first day of senior year Sora came up to me as I was opening my locker. He no longer wore glasses, opting for contacts instead, but he still touched his nose as in habit. Standing their awkwardly, Sora had smiled.

And boy did I fall for him again.

Sora then invited me over his house to hang out like old times and I readily accepted. We spent that night playing candy-land because we had nothing better to do, and eating homemade pizza. I had laughed at Sora's antics, many the same as years before, and he had smiled at my laughter. And the next day, me and Sora were once again attached at the hip.

My girlfriends will probably never understand what I see in Sora. They'll never see what I see in his clumsy smiles and they'll never feel what I feel when he tells me he loves me. They'll never understand why I still bake cookies for him on Christmas, even though we have so much else to eat, and they won't understand why we still paint eggs on Easter and then through them away when we're finished.

They won't feel the butterfly's I feel in my stomach when Sora hugs me. They'll never experience the beating I feel in my heart when Sora calls me his princess and they'll never see Sora's laugh the way I do or the satisfaction I get when Sora playfully tackles me as his way of saying 'thanks Kairi.'

But most of all, my girlfriends will never understand why I think Sora's pizza is the most romantic thing he's ever made or done for me. They don't see what I see when Sora slaves over a hot oven in his red swim shorts and black hoodie, stirring a sauce and spreading cheese. They can't see Sora's willingness to serve in the way he demands I make myself comfortable on the couch. They don't see the sweet gentlemen he is when he serves my plate first or how he always gets up to grab anything else I want with pizza from the kitchen. They don't see his caring side when I accidentally drop sauce on my new white shirt and he runs to grab the bleach, or demands that he pay for a new shirt if it can't be fixed. And they'll never see the love Sora shows when we cuddle up on the couch after eating and talk about anything under the sun.

"Pizza isn't_ that _romantic, Kairi." Selphie says, rolling her eyes. The other girls just giggle and continue talking about their own boyfriends and how romantic they are to them.

Their words do not bother me though. I'm glad they don't see what I see. What me and Sora have is something unique. It isn't extravagant and it's nothing like what you'd see in romance novels, but it's unique.

And I kind of like having something different. Something that nobody else knows about. Something that nobody will ever understand.

So I let them laugh. And tomorrow when I'll lay in Sora's arms, stomach full of pizza and heart full of butterfly's, I'll tell him what they said. And together we'll laugh; we're glad they don't understand.

Because when you get down to it, what we have is special. And we don't expect anyone but ourselves to truly understand what that means.

--

A/N: ...I think it's cute, but I don't know what you guys think. Review so I can get some feedback!


End file.
